


A Prisoner's Visit

by HoneyandMilktea



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Dream's going insane, DreamSMP - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Instability, Mentioned Sam | Awesamdude, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minecraft, Minecraft Roleplay - Freeform, Prison, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Sick Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Silent Dream, Unexpected Visitors, dreamnotfound, forehead kiss, just a prison visit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29408271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyandMilktea/pseuds/HoneyandMilktea
Summary: “I just stand here?”The voice was faint, far and familiar. Dream felt his eyes widen, searching to try and peer through the thick and opaque lava.“...He’s not talking?”•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••Dream gets an unexpected visitor. He misses him.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), dreamnotfound - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 170





	A Prisoner's Visit

**Author's Note:**

> I mostly wanted to write about the prison and how tired and sick Dream looked and felt :)  
> You know... catch his slow spiral to being a mad man.  
> I don't know if I captured that but I really lacked at writing George :'
> 
> Mans boring af and can't roleplay so /lh

Purple mysterious illuminated droplets trickled from the roof of the dark prison cell. It was painfully silent, besides the loud boiling of the lava and the occasional rattle of the metallic handcuffs.  
The iron restraints dug into Dream’s pale wrist, chipping at each layer of skin. The result was the skin on his wrist being shaved down; it was flaring pink and raw at how tight the shackles were.  
His eyes had lost all life, his dirty blonde hair fraying at the ends, his pale lips were cracked at one side as if he often peels and bites at that side. The orange uniform was disheveled and the cuffs were eroding away. The once powerful man had been defeated and turned to nothing but rubble.  
The prisoner sat on his shins, his arms close together to avoid any tortuous friction; his eyes dully on the clock that hung on the wall. Despite the silent yellow timer, Dream had lost how many days he’s been in here. It was easy to lose count of how long ago was his last visitor. What they said or did once here was muddy and unrecognizable. He remembers Bad. How he cheerfully told him to be optimistic and how once he was guard things would change. How his mouth watered at the prospect of his friend handing him a steaming cooked potato rather than a cold raw one. 

Then, after his lame excuse of an escape, Sapnap showed. His voice was quiet and calming and he kept reassuring how they were still friends. How he resisted the fact that maybe one day he could get out of here. Anything after or before that was a vague memory. Dream’s thoughts were empty as they usually were unless something sparked his memory. He slowly rose to stand, the loud popping and cracking of his bones and body aching in protest. The once fit man was reduced to a feeble sickly looking character. Being fed only water and raw potatoes had a side effect. Dream staggered to stand in front of the suspended clock, watching as the sun and moon stood perfectly aligned in the middle. A smile slowly passed on Dream’s lips before the sun slowly consumed the black sky illuminated on the clock… and then his mouth returned to it’s slant state. He licked his cracked lips, turning back around to plop himself on the hard obsidian ground.

Hours had to pass before Dream stood once more and drew closer to the clock; watching the dark night sky and the bright day align in the middle. His smile, looking more like a madman, creased the prisoners eyes before it faded as the night took over the blue sky. The sickly man attempted to straighten his posture, though his spine whined in protest causing a strangled grunt to flee his pale mouth. Dream waltzed his way back to the farthest wall from the mantled clock.  
“I just stand here?”  
The voice was faint, far and familiar. Dream felt his eyes widen, searching to try and peer through the thick and opaque lava.  
“...He’s not talking?”  
Dream clamped his lips together, weakly attempting to try and not bite off his tongue as he stood to rummage around his wooden chest. He pulled out a leather bound book, its pages left blank. He held the book firmly in his hands, keeping it close to his heart as he waited for the lava to part.  
It seemed like forever for the bubbling lava to drain; for his small friend stepped through.  
“Dream?” His voice was no longer faint, no longer distant. In fact, it was loud and overbearing. His name rang in his own ears and rattled in his head.  
“George?” His own voice was quiet and raspy and he had already forgotten about the blank book in his hands. The smaller man perched his glasses at the top of his head, his almond eyes staring at the weak figure hovering before him.  
“Dream…” There was a silence that drifted before them. One where neither of them found the words to say. So George partook in surveying the mundane dark cell. His dark eyes found the luminescent purple goo dripping from the walls, the glowstone sitting at the ceiling, the chest riddled with blank and filled books, the mounted clock on the wall and the cauldron of clean blue water.  
“I.. uh, like what you did with the place” George muttered out, hesitant on his next few steps deeper inside the prison. Dream was silent.  
“Sam and Sapnap said you weren’t talking” Another long silence.  
“I miss you out there... on the smp..” 

Maybe it was George’s obliviousness that failed to make him see what a bad guy Dream actually was. He didn’t care for the child he had manipulated and the people he mistreated. George wasn’t aware of his friend’s abusive behavior nor did he pass the time to listen to others talk about it. To him, Dream was a friend and friend’s had bad days.  
“Sapnap said you wanted to see me” The brunette spoke after clearing his throat. He received a nod from the shackled prisoner. Dream shifted, weakly prying open the book and lazily scratching on the first blank page. He slid the book across the rough obsidian flooring- it read:  
‘You took so long’  
“Well… I didn’t know if you even wanted to see me” George muttered. Another painful silence as the inky quill moved restlessly as Dream wrote down his response,  
‘I always want to see you’  
A soft scoff fled the other’s rosy lips and he rolled his eyes. “Right..” The brunette dismissed with a smile.  
His tender smile was contagious and for once without the clock being aligned in the middle, Dream smiled as well.  
‘Why wouldn’t i want to see you?’ He wrote, sliding the filling book for George to read over.  
The Brit carefully turned the page.  
“Because you said it yourself you lost all attachment to people-” Dream’s smile faltered  
‘not you’  
“Really?”  
‘Everything I did was for you, no?’  
George pursed his lips in thought. “I guess…”  
‘I exiled Tommy because he burnt down your house. I dethroned you because I was afraid people would hurt you… if i didn't want to see you I wouldn’t have done all those things’  
Dream scribbled down on his page handing the book to George.  
“...You’re right”  
For the second time that visit, George smiled breaking the sickly man to return the grin.  
“You look.. disgusting” George muttered, pushing himself to crawl and sit next to Dream.  
“I’ll be better when I get out of here” The words scratched at the blonde’s throat, dryly falling from his tongue.  
“You’re going to be free?” A flicker of hope from the visitor  
“Eventually”  
“Huh-” George hummed with a smile.

“Well then I’ll wait for you when you get out right-?” The brunette received a silent nod  
“I should go then… get a.. Things ready for your return” They were lying to themselves. Playing pretend to make everything seem okay. Dream wouldn’t be able to leave and his feeble attempts to escape didn’t aid in that. His scratchy rough words were lies that he was convincing himself to believe.  
Dream slowly pushed himself to stand, staggering to his wooden chest to pull out another blank book. He quickly scribbled down on it, handing it to George.  
‘Thank you for visiting me’  
Another gentle grin. “Of course” He breathes, clearing his throat before handing it back to Dream.  
“I’ll take it back when you’re free..”  
The prisoner stood there hunching over to meet George’s soft doe gaze. Hoping.  
“Right well-” The brit hesitated before leaning in, gently pressing his pink lips against Dream’s temple.

“Are you ready to leave?” The warden’s voice was clear as if he was standing in the room with them.  
“Yeah..”  
“Stand in the water” George obliged. The water rose to his knees as Dream moved to join him. They stood inches apart simply gazing at each other. 

[Georgenotfound was killed by Potion using magic]  
[Dream was killed by Potion using magic]


End file.
